On Deck
by The Ghostly Minion
Summary: Chapters that will be WIPs. Some will be crossovers, some may not be HP. Some will be Alternate. Rating M to be safe.
1. Chapter 1

Welcome to _On Deck_. These are not plot bunnies, nor one-shots. These are chapters in what will become WIPs. Mainly, these will be first chapters. Some will be middle or final chapters. A lot depends on how the idea popped into my head.

None of these are up for adoption. I realize that I really can't stop anyone making one of these into a story. I would asked that I be properly attributed.


	2. I KIlled Harry

**Please see the front chapter for this collection _On Deck_. That will explain this collection and what you'll find here.**

 **This story is overwhelmingly Harry Potter, but with a significant crossover into Harry Dresden's reality. When published, the story description will reflect this.**

 **I am thrilled that I am able to create my own universe in the realit** **ies** **created by JKR** **and Jim Butcher** **. I own the ideas and characters and places which are unfamiliar. Anything you recognize belongs to the Creator** **s**.

 **Alternate. T. Drama/Angst**

 **Harry P., Hermione G., Joseph Listens-to Wind, OCs**

 _Monday, May 8, 2001, McLean Virginia, CIA Headquarters, Section M_

Hermione Granger jolted out of sleep, sat straight up in her bed, looked around her, then remembered where she was and why. As always, she burst into enormously loud, prolonged and uncontrollable sobs.

Unbeknownst to her, the resident warding experts in Section MA, Magical Analysis, had incorporated strong wards into the walls, ceiling, floor and doors of her quarters. There were fears among her superiors that she would someday lose control over her magic during one of these sobbing jags and cause havoc, she being uncommonly strong magically, but yet only twenty-one years of age and far from her mature strength. The healers felt she should be put into their Mind Healing Ward for treatment.

But, despite her emotional difficulties at night, while working she was the consummate professional and frankly the best there was in analyzing intelligence. Indeed, she had become that cliché, the indispensable person. At this point she was so needed that, barring some public breakdown, they had to live with her night terrors.

After the non-stop sobbing verging on hyperventilation ended, she looked over to the alarm clock. Startled, she thought _5:30? I_ _must have_ _woke up_ _really_ _early this time,_ _I_ _had to have cried for at least an hour_ _this time_ _. Granger, you've got to get a hold of yourself._ This was her usual internal monologue. She continued to muse. _I really soaked the pillowcase._

Rising, she took her wand, and with a flick, restored her bedding to a near pristine condition. Not that she was fooled by the appearance. Tomorrow she'd need to send them to be cleaned, as she did every fourth day on so. Her tears and night sweats took it's toll on bed linens. She then went into the bath, to ready herself for the day.

Before dressing, she looked at herself in the mirror, not liking what she saw. _I've lost so much weight, I look skeletal._ _My_ _hair looks so lank, I'll have to get it_ _styled_ _again, it is almost straight._ _Whatever happened to Hermione Granger, bushy-haired bookworm?_ _No muscle tone_ _either_ _, all the stair climbing and book lugging at Hogwarts has been_ _for naught._ _I use to have legs, not sticks_ _._ She dressed quickly, in tan pants, white blouse and dark blue jacket, essentially the uniform in Section MA. Still, she almost automatically looked for a dark robe, then she had to remind herself as always that this wasn't England any more. No one outside of England dressed like that. Shouldering a massive book bag (charmed to weigh next to nothing), she exited her quarters.

 **-IKH-**

When she left her quarters, she energetically walked to the cafeteria. She saw a bit of gawking, always looks of curiosity, even some borderline hostility. She knew the gossip that had swirled around her ever since day one in Section MA. She didn't like it, but it was what it was. Nobody, excepting the top echelons knew the full story. _T_ _here are_ _only a_ _few_ _expats from the UK,_ _that_ _helps me and the Americans g_ _o_ _t the_ _media_ _story. Their_ _not_ _knowing probably_ _is_ _for the best. I'd be_ _pressured_ _out of the Company in a blink of an eye,_ _they might even_ _reinstate Witch Burnings!_ Still, while she was working, she made sure to exude an air of collegial friendliness.

She was affable, supportive of her co-workers, never failing the give them their due, or to recommend promotions. She kept the spirits on her shift high, often ate with her co-workers, and sometimes spent an evening relaxing or playing games with them. Hardly anyone knew this was a pose, an act, camouflage. It wasn't the real her, at least at the start, but she'd always known that she would have had to change anyway, to fit into a work environment. Often she'd thought, even in Hogwarts, that an evolution of persona would be necessary, perhaps even beneficial.

She entered the cafeteria, got a breakfast of fruit, yogurt and oatmeal. She would be horribly early for her 8 to 8 shift, but she liked to prepare and hit her shift running. She greeted the other early birds, chatted with a friend from the MS (Magical Seeing) section. The seer, Jessica Milligan, told her about plans to pair members of the MA and the MS together to see if there would develop a synergy between partners. "I wonder why we haven't heard anything about this from MA?" Hermione pondered.

Jessica shrugged. "Hermione, my best guess..."

"Isn't that what you're paid to do?" Hermione grinned impishly, letting Jessica know the snark wasn't to be taken to heart.

"Snarky or not you just demonstrated my point." Jessica laughed, then sighed. "You analysis types have a certain bit of derision for the 'Crystal Ball Brigade'. You deal with 'hard facts' and we don't. I don't think that is really your mindset, but I'm sure you've seen it in others in your section. I think that is why you've yet to hear about it. MA would just get up and complain and try to sabotage it from the word go. Do me a favor and don't let anyone know about this or who told you. Best all around".

Hermione saw this was sensitive, moreover, she did not want her friend to be in trouble. "I will keep it buried, but thanks for letting me know. I won't let things get too out of hand in MA when it's announced."

Jessica smiled, patted her hand and said "Thanks", then finished with her breakfast, left for MS.

Also finished her breakfast, Hermione was about to leave when she saw her section head, Sam Masters ushering a young man, maybe a year or two younger than she towards her table. She smiled, called for another mug of coffee, and waited for them to sit down.

Masters, a tall, well built man in his late forties affected a mood of affability, with an undercurrent of menace towards anyone giving any thought of not giving at least 100% on their shifts. The young man looked familiar to her, then with a rush of memory, she placed him as Reg Dyestock, a Ravenclaw from the year lower than her. _This is dangerous, he knows the full story and it must not get out. I'm going to have to make sure he doesn't, but I've no leverage at all._ Reg had changed in the last four-odd years. He'd shot up by about 5 inches, and had put on weight, muscle on a stocky frame. His frank, friendly face had not changed, despite the horrors, he'd surely experienced in England before escaping.

Sam settled in next to her with Reg seating himself across the way. Both started in on their breakfasts, with Sam handing her a cup of coffee. While they ate, she looked them over, particularly Reg. He did look askance at her choice of beverage, but did not look at her with the hatred and disgust she expected. Either he had none for her, which she doubted, or he hid it very well, much more likely.

Sam sighed, wiped his mouth and looked at his star analyst. _God knows, she's had a tough row to hoe. She's got so much potential_ , _it is a real shame that it might_ _g_ _o to waste. I only hope this synergy plan will work._ _T_ _hat seer they want her to work with will make her or break her I fear. Goo_ _d that w_ _orking with_ _Dyestock can get her acclimated._ "Hermione, I'd like you to meet Reg Dyestock. He's another expat Brit who's just finished hiring on and has had his orientation in MS. Higher ups feel that members of different sections of the Company need to know each other more, become more of a team, if we're to defeat Voldemort. So, for this week, you're are taking him under your wing, show him how MA works. It's only seven, so you two have an hour to get acquainted. Any questions?"

 _Oh snap! This will be fun. NOT!_ "Not about that, Sam, but I'd like the night shift to go over the last month and list out the frequency of DeathEater actions in each sector and the frequency of Voldemort's New Order contacts with other governments in each sector. There is a pattern there and I need to find it soonest."

"No problem there. I'll make sure it's ready for you at eight. Reg, I'm leaving you in capable hands. Enjoy." Sam rose, and strode purposefully out of the cafeteria.

Hermione looked at Reg. "Before we start, let's freshen our drinks." Reg nodded and they both got new cups and returned to their table. With a swift series of wand movements, Hermione cast a series of privacy and notice-me-not charms around their table, allowing them to speak freely without fear of being overheard.

Reg sipped his tea with an appreciative face. "I was surprised at how good a brew the Company makes, this being the States and all."

"Yes, they do, but before and during shifts, it's coffee for me. Afterwards, tea helps me unwind. But I guess we should skip small talk."

"I agree." Reg studied her face, as if he was looking for a clue, or trying to read her. In fact, that was exactly his purpose, using his Inner Eye to hunt for clues about this most notorious of British witches. After a moment, he sighed. "I really don't know what I want to say to you, Hermione. I haven't seen you in almost four and a half years. I imagine you expect me to yell and scream and so forth. I'm not going to do that. I would not have, even on that day, nor on the day after. It isn't me anyway."

"You can't say you don't hate me. Not after what transpired those days and what has happened since."

"That **is** what I'm saying. Even if I'd been inclined towards hate, Frank's words both days would have stopped me cold. I'm sure it did for a lot of them there."

Frank. Hermione pondered a moment about the last Hogwarts Head Boy she'd known, Frank Morrison. Oddly enough, he was from the States. Odder still that he had attended Hogwarts at all. She kept in touch with him since she got here and knew a lot about him and his family. "I think that happened to a lot of people. I often think he was the only thing between me and being lynched. I'm not sure the staff would have stopped them, but he did. He was a man-and-a-half those two days."

"Only on those two days? He was always a man-and-a-half! Biggest bloke I ever saw, outside of his brother!"

Hermione couldn't keep from grinning. In her fourth year, there had been a special week of evening programs for the all the students from the three schools present for the TriWizard about Muggle sports.

The highlight were the four days, about US Muggle sports, given by Frank and his older brother Greg Morrison. Both had played the major sports in the US: baseball, basketball, ice hockey and particularly the sport called football in the US. Greg, a squib, had been a star player in college and was having a good career as a professional too. Both were excellent teachers, and their enthusiasm and passion were infectious.

"True, he is a bit smaller than Greg, though not by much. He did know what to say, both in the Great Hall and in the Gryffindor Common Room. He and Irene Adler got me on the train safely, and made sure I got home safely too. He brought Irene to the States, did you know that? They'd been in love a couple years, even though he was a Gryffindor and she was in Slytherin. Being Head Boy and Girl together sealed it for them. They're married now and expecting their first."

"I didn't know that. I liked him. Hermione?" His voice was soft, and held a genuine concern, along with a Ravenclaw's curiosity. "Can you tell me why it happened?"

A series of cascading emotions defeated her usual poker face. Fear, anger, shame, hopelessness. "If you mean why, meaning what was going on in my mind, I can't tell you. I'm under the same oaths you are, after all. If you mean what was going on in my heart/soul/spirit, I'm not sure, even after all this time. Even without the oaths, I can't see ever sharing it with another."

Reg thought about that. He had to take a binding oath, on his magic and life that he would not speak about Hermione Granger to anyone, unless a higher up cleared them. He was told that all refugees from the UK, or who had been at Hogwarts in the 1996-7 term had to make the oaths. He wasn't sure if his superiors had relaxed the order, or if Sam had, or if the wards Hermione erected had done the trick, but they could talk freely to one another. "That makes sense, I suppose, but raises the question why we can talk about it to each other."

Hermione shrugged. "I was told that I could talk about it to fellow UK/Hogwarts people, so long as I put up security measures, which I did for us. That doesn't get us totally clear of the oaths, but let's us at least talk about generalities. If it gets too specific, the oaths kick in, but I don't have much experience with this. I get a lot of Intel about the UK of course, but I don't talk to many of us, or hear personal news. What can you tell me about the people I knew back then and your story. How and when did you get out?"

Reg grimaced. "I don't know a whole lot. Most everyone who could got out of the country fast. The Patils, for instance are back in India and so forth. Some just disappeared, likely victims. Some adjusted and some just managed to survive."

"The ones you're most interested in I imagine are the Weasleys. They've had some of all of this happen to them. Bill and Fleur Delacour, as Gringotts employees, had protection, and now work away from Britain. They're married now. Charlie was warned to stay in Romania and has. Percy found it no problem to work for the New Order, for him the Ministry is the Ministry is the Ministry."

Although sickened at the man she once looked upon a role model, Hermione wasn't surprised. These four were where she'd expected them. She began to dread though, tor the others.

Reg went on. "Arthur and Molly live alone, Arthur was fired of course, he'd never would have gone along with the New Order. The still live in the Burrow, alone. Their land provides enough food for them and a bit to sell. Molly is a potions mistress, she brews and sells Ministry approved potions. All in all, they live better than most."

Hermione could not shake a sense of dread, but had to ask. "What about the twins, Ginny and Ron?"

Her worst fears were confirmed by the look on Reg's face. The twins disappeared from their store about three years ago, along with Jordan, Johnson and Bell. They haven't been seen since." Reg moved past the Hermione's gasp of pain and shock. "Ginny caught the eye of Draco Malfoy. His family forced a marriage contract on her. She hasn't been seen since."

"That leaves Ron. Well, Ron—he jumped into the New Order with both feet. He Flooed into Harry's relatives' house, killed them, and torched the house with Fiendfyre. There was great fanfare in the papers and wireless about how he punished Potter's protectors and he received the Dark Mark as a reward. He also claimed Susan Bones and the assets of her family. After her aunt was killed, there was no one to protect her. He is now the chief DeathEater for the Devon province."

Reg could see devastation, horror and disgust on Hermione's face at the news about her one time best friend; Harry's best friend too. He was impressed that she did not cry and the speed at which she regained control. "As for me, my family got out right away and we moved here to the States. I was able to finish my fifth year and sit my OWLS at the Salem Institute, partly because my high seer scores were known to the government. I did my last two years, passed my NEWTs with flying colors and the was recruited into MCIA, Section MS. They put me through one and a half years of intensive honing of my abilities, then orientation and now this."

"Thanks Reg. That can't have been easy for you to tell me, but I did need to know." She looked at her watch, it was 7:40. "Finite Incantatum. In the MA Section, we receive data about the New Order's activities from the MCIA's intelligence operations. That data is then correlated, analyzed and we draw conclusions about why Voldemort is acting as he is and to what end. If we do our jobs right, his next moves can be countered. Without false modesty, our track record is damned good and a lot of lives have been saved. You heard me ask for a bunch of data. For a few days, I've been sensing a pattern in the data. What we have tells me something big is about to go down. The data I've asked for should let me pin down what's afoot. This is something I've done before and it's always worked."

"Reg, with your senses as a seer and this is not teasing, are you foreseeing anything major on the horizon?"

"Hermione, I do feel something looming, but as of now, it is very unclear. No details, just something and big. By the way, you almost sounded like a seer, just now. You sure you didn't sandbag Trelawney?"

Hermione grinned and shook her head. "Well, if I can't get what I wanted, that might be what I need. Keep working on it, the independent confirmation is always nice. Let's go."

The two then left the cafeteria and made the three minute walk to the main MA analysis room. As usual so near to a shift change, the room was near standing room. Hermione saw Thomas Jacobs, her opposite number on the night shift, walk over. "We did what you wanted, and the information is on your desk. Another hunch?"

"Yes Thomas and thank you, things are pointing to something big happening and the sooner I figure it out, the better. By the way, this is Reg Dyestock who finishing his orientation for MS by observing the MA day shift this week. His senses tell him there's something big afoot too, but nothing else yet. But I've got a feeling he'll be a big help."

"Reg, nice to meet you, I'll talk to you at the next shift change. Good luck and I'm sure you'll fit in." Shaking Reg's hand, he left, along with the rest of the night shift.

Unsurprisingly, the night shift wasted no time in leaving to eat and otherwise wind down their day. Now that the room was filled with the day shift, settling down to work, Hermione cleared her throat and got everyone's attention with her best Bossy Know-It-All voice. "OK, everyone, listen up. Two things for today. First, I think something big is going to happen. I'll be going through the data the night shift collected for me. I want all of your to be on the lookout for changes in New Order activity, particularly shifts in personnel. If you see anything give me a heads-up, ASAP. Second, for the next week, Reg Dyestock will be with us. He is finishing his orientation and will be in MS. They are now having new hires learn about the other sections. While he is here, he is not a guest. he is one of us. And he'll be treated as such. Be sure to introduce yourselves and if Reg does something noteworthy, sing out. He's got as much right to get a Gold Star as any of us. OK, let get to it!"

Reg watched with fascination as Hermione set to work. She spread the reports neatly on a large table and with a flick of her wand, converted an enormous white board into a map of the world. With another wave, a large number of lights appeared on the map, some red and the majority white. "See Reg, this was the situation a calendar month ago. Red lights are New Order operations, raids, killings, meetings with the local governments and so forth. Tapping on a light brings up the details. White lights indicate new order personnel, again tap and you get an ID." She demonstrated and the display read 'Ronald Weasley'. She grimaced. "Now I will do the same for each day and see what emerges."

Reg watched her, vastly impressed. Hermione barely seemed to need to even glance at the reports. Just flicks of her wand, and a new map was superimposed on the maps preceding. Even with the frequent interruptions by others, he saw she was able to pick up where she left off without waste or fumbling. When he wasn't helping her, she had him circulate around the section, introducing himself and helping out. By 2 pm, he was back with her and she was three quarters done. A thought occurred to him. "Hermione, you hardly look at the reports. Just how good is your memory anyway?"

"Hermione gave him a wry smile. "I have an almost eidetic memory. It's one reason I did so well in school and it is invaluable in this work. That's why I could be so sure there was a pattern. If I had full eidetic memory, I would already know, but this does give me a leg up. The pattern is showing a pull-back, especially in Africa and Asia, South America too, and even though they're trying to hide it, the excess DeathEaters are ending up in the UK. Oh Merlin, they finished an electoral cycle and the Loyal Address is tonight! Reg, find Sam and get him here." Raising her voice, she called out to the UK desks. "Jason! Linda! I need you two over here quick!"

Jason LaRue and Linda Travers hurried over to Hermione's station. When she called out like that, everyone knew it was big and likely bad. "Jason, Linda, whatever is happening is going to be in England. I don't think it is coincidence that the Loyal Address is tonight. It will start in about an hour, I want you to keep the sharpest eye out a call when you see movement." The two acknowledged their orders and returned to their stations. Just then, Sam hurried up with Reg in tow.

"Sam, I think that Voldemort is going to attack the House of Commons during the Loyal Address tonight. I've got a few more days to map, but the pattern is clear, withdrawal of forces from Asia, Africa and South America and a build up in the UK. Also the frequency of activities outside of the UK is declining in general. Give me an uninterrupted half an hour, I can lay it all out."

"You've got it." Sam raised his voice. "Gang, if something come up, come to me with it for the next little while, except the UK, you go directly to Hermione." He turned again to Hermione. "I'll see what we can do in the meantime, Hermione, but you know as well as I there is not much we can do there. We might be able to get a few out but that may be all."

Hermione nodded grimly. She had already come to that conclusion. _This is where the job sucks. When it is too late to do any good. When it's in the wrong place to do any good._ Shaking off the despair, she went to work with a will, finishing the maps in 20 minutes. Getting Sam's attention, she flipped through the maps chronologically and as expected, the pattern was clear.

"Good work. This is entirely clear. I've been on the horn with the brass hats. they tell me that the State Department has warned the Prime Minister about the threat, but he assured them that their security would be enough to ensure Her Majesty's safety."

Hermione's shoulders slumped. She knew that the Queen's fate was sealed, the Royal Family's fate and likely most, if not all of the House of Commons. Looking at Sam, she could see on his face the same mixture of anger, sorrow and helplessness she herself felt.

Meanwhile, Reg had been spending his time at the UK desk, helping, observing and talking to Linda Travers. She grew up in the States. Reg found her engaging, intelligent and rather pretty. She stood about half a head shorter than his five foot ten inch frame, was possessed of a thin, sturdy, athletic figure. Her blue eyes and auburn hair highlighted her regular and pleasing features. She was making the same type of maps Hermione did, but just showing the UK. The indicators were not moving in any pattern Reg could discern, but as both agreed, the DeathEaters didn't need to converge on London until the last minute, using Portkeys of Apparation.

Then, Reg felt a huge tug in his senses. He felt DeathEaters Apparating away. He yelled out, "They're leaving, it's going down NOW!"

Immediately, all eyes focused on the large TV which was already tuned to BBC and the Address. One advantage in the MCIA was that electronics could be shielded from the magic, so they did has access to computers and such. Now all anyone could do was to watch in horrified anticipation, while the Address droned on.

Then,13 figures popped into being in the middle of the House, led by Voldemort. He screeched in his cold, high-pitched voice. "Today, Great Britain yields to it's true masters, the Wizards and Witches of the purest blood! Today, I take my destined role as Emperior of the New Order. Avada Kedavra!" With that, the Queen fell over, dead. Instantly the DeathEaters cast the Killing Curse at the Members of Parliament, causing a stampede for the doors, only to be cut off by more DeathEaters. The BBC news crew was spared to broadcast the carnage, until they were the only ones left, then they too, were killed. All of this took roughly five minutes.

The paralysis in the room lasted for a minute or two, then Sam spoke up. "OK. we've had a big blow, but we've got to get back to work. Travers, LaRue, get your map display finished and write up a report. Dyestock, write up your seer impressions since the start of shift. And you've got a gold star for your work. Hermione write a report and analysis. Move now, there'll be a briefing for the brass tonight, and you'll be our lead person."

For ten minutes Hermione thought about her research that had led to the correct conclusion, albeit too late to make any difference. She didn't dwell on it, it would have been impossible to get enough assets to London to make a rescue. It took her an hour to write the report and get copies printed and another moment saw the map display shrunk and in her pocket. She handed a copy to Sam who had it sent out. "Hermione, you did good work. I want you, Reg, Jason and Linda to get some supper. Word came down, we're wanted at the White House at 6:30. The rest of the section will pick up your work, concentrate on your presentation.

The four ate a mostly silent meal in the cafeteria. Other then congratulating Linda, Jason and Reg on work well done, Hermione said nothing as did Jason. For their part, Reg and Linda chatted quietly. After eating, they returned to Section MA and continued to prepare for the briefing. At 6:25, Sam lead them to the Apparation point and they Apparated to the White House.

When they arrived, their identities were checked by the Secret Service, then they were escorted into a large conference room. Inside were the President and his security advisers. Hermione looked curiously at the President. She discounted all the media stories for and against the man. She saw a man seemingly dialed in on the problem at hand, seemingly ready to take any action required to meet Voldemort's threat.

Hermione was startled and shaken to see Luna Lovegood enter the room. Even though she knew Luna was in Section MS, they had not run across each other the time they'd both worked for the MCIA. Luna gave her a piercing look, there was nothing dreamy in Luna's eyes, but she said nothing to Hermione, who was too startled to try a greeting herself.

She, Reg, Linda and Jason set up their maps and after an introduction by the head of the MCIA and Sam, each gave their reports on how they worked out Voldemort's coup. After their reports, Hermione took the lead in answering the few questions asked. The Security advisers deferred to the President.

"If we had had a week's notice, could we have pulled off a rescue, Miss Granger?"

"Mr. President, I don't know that I'm the expert here, but I'd say no. It would have been impossible to get enough assets into London to effect a rescue. Since the magical authorities in the UK are New Order, we would not have any support from Wizards and we would have been badly outnumbered unless a full-scale invasion was planned.

"Mr President," Hermione continued, gaining in confidence. This was after all, her strongest point, analysis "if we could have known a day or a week in advance, I'm not sure how much that could have helped. Wizards are so much more mobile than non-magicals. Short of a nuclear attack on Parliament, I see no way to have stopped Voldemort."

The President nodded wearily. He appreciated this young woman's—young witch's intelligence. Still, he knew, a politician's sixth sense, there was more to her story than she let on. Finding out must now be a priority. "Ms Granger, I am impressed." He gave her an appraising look. "What else do you have to complicate our lives?" His wry smile told everyone there was no sting to the question.

Hermione twitched her lips to tell him the message was received, then sobered. "First thing, Mr. President, is that actually controlling the UK is going to be much more difficult than just what Voldemort did today. Particularly if the armed forces put up resistance. Gunfire will kill wizards just as easily as anyone else. So it will take time, maybe months, maybe years to subdue the UK and leave Voldemort free to look abroad. Making contact with and supporting that resistance is in our best interests.

"However, countries wanting to lend support have a big domestic problem to solve." She shuddered. "The Statute of Secrecy, in force since 1692, has been blown completely out of the water by today's attack. The rest of the world now has to accept the existence of a world that was hidden from them, accept it and learn to live with and integrate with it. How long will that take? Here, in the US, what will Congress say or do?"

The President snorted, derisively. "Articles of impeachment. And B.C. thought he had it bad. I'll be a lame duck already, inside my first six months! You bring up a damn good point. OK, I want some answers. How did this madman get so much power? Three of you are British and among you, you have to give me some answers. So spill!"

Reg, Luna and Hermione looked at each other, the color draining from their faces. If she could, Hermione would have died on the spot. The President, though must be answered. His direct order canceled all their oaths and in fact compelled them to answer him.

It was Luna who broke the silence, her voice having none of the dreamy quality her Hogwarts classmates would have recognized. "Mr. President, Voldemort rose because the one person who could have defeated him died on January 2,1997. His name was Harry James Potter, also known as The-Boy-Who-Lived, because on October 31, 1981, he alone survived an attack that killed his parents. Voldemort used the Killing Curse on Harry and somehow it bounced off him, apparently destroying Voldemort. That curse is called an Unforgivable. Its use means a life sentence, no parole. It can't be blocked and if it hits you, you die. Harry was the only person known to history to be hit by that curse and survive."

"There were 14 years of peace, before Dark Magic reincarnated Voldemort into a new body. This is a long story cut very short. However, there was a prophecy connected with Harry, that goes as follows:

 _"The one with the power to vanquish the Dark Lord approaches... born to those who have thrice defied him, born as the seventh month dies... and the Dark Lord will mark him as his equal, but he will have power the Dark Lord knows not... and either must die at the hand of the other for neither can live while the other survives... the one with the `power to vanquish the Dark Lord will be born as the seventh month dies..."_

"I, Hermione Granger, Harry Potter and three others fought Voldemort when he tried to retrieve this prophecy, at the end of June in 1996. We succeeded in denying the prophecy to Voldemort. But that victory became moot when Harry died. We believe Harry was the one mentioned in the prophecy. Why he died prematurely, I can't even try to explain. Without modesty, I am one of the best, most accurate seers in the MCIA. But it is as much art as anything else. But I know Harry James Potter would have vanquished Voldemort had he lived."

"So," the President muttered "this Harry Potter is the key to this whole mess. And you say he died in 1997. Why? What happened?"

Luna felt the President's passion, his desire to get answers, and found herself compelled to respond. "Mr. President, all three of us were in the Great Hall of Hogwarts that terrible morning. Reg and I were there, but the story is Hermione's alone."

Hermione felt the walls close in about her. She knew she had to tell the story that woke her at nights, had haunted her for so long. She saw the President demanding her to speak with his eyes.

"Well, the truth of the matter is, that ... that I killed Harry."

 **A/N: This story is inspired by two chapters in broomstick flyer's collection,** _ **All Sorts**_ **; Chapter** **9** **,** _ **'Without the power'**_ **and** **C** **hapter 23,** _ **'A few minutes is all it takes**_ **'.** **When this becomes a WIP, it will be part of the Broomstick's Memorial C2.**

 **My recommended story is _All Sorts_ , id: 5356707, by broomstick rider. There are some very good one-shots and story ideas.**

 **The fates of Susan Bones and Ginny Weasley are not new to me. I've seen Ginny's fate, in various forms in several fan fictions, enough to admit that it's been done, but I can't cite any particular story. As to Susan's fate, that is mainly an extrapolation of canon, since we know she is all but defenseless after her aunt dies, as related in HBP. One version of the idea can be found in Robst's _You_ _'_ _r_ _e_ _my Density_. To the best of my knowledge, my version is novel.**

 **I have a poll currently on my profile. Please vote before 12/31/2015.**

 **Once more, thanks to all you who read my efforts. Visitors, hits, reviews, follows, favorites, C2s are my only payment. Believe me, they make me feel rich!**

 **Posted: 08/23/2015  
Words: 6,080**


	3. An Ultimate Betrayal

_**An Ultimate Betrayal**_

 _ **Chapter One: C**_ _ **uckoldry**_

A horrifying revelation tears Harry's world apart. The happiest years of his life become a taunting mirage. His reaction ends all contact with the world of magic (?). Hurt/Comfort. Harry P., Ginny W., Hermione G., OC

 **Recently, two stories got** **acquainted** **in my subconscious:** _ **Nineteen years plus thirty minutes later,**_ **by broomstick rider id: 6142283 and** _ **Harry's Boring Bookworm,**_ **by Angry Hermione id: 2908392. The following is the first chapter of their rather disturbing love-** **childe (yes, I played a bit with the spelling as a bit of whimsy). Enjoy.**

 _September 1, 2016 (aka, Eighteen Years later…)_

Platform 9 ¾ at King's Cross Station was never anything less than a madhouse when the Hogwarts Express loaded for the Fall term. There was a certain extra air of excitement and anticipation this year, though. This was the year that the eldest child of Harry Potter, Head Auror, Conqueror-of-VoldemortTM began attending the esteemed institution. The semi-casual onlooker saw James Sirius Potter, his mother, Ginny Potter (The-Woman-who-Married), his siblings Albus and Lily, along with a host of his mother's family.

Besides his grandparents, his Uncle Ron and Aunt Hermione (the rest of The-Trio-who-ConqueredTM), various aunts and uncles and their children, was their honourary grandmother, Andromeda Tonks. But the one missing element was Harry himself. Six weeks prior, he'd been in a fierce fire-fight with the latest would-be Dark Lord. It was known that the fight had been won, but Harry had been fairly severely injured. _The Daily Prophet_ had reported the Head Auror was on the mend; but the looks on the faces of the extended family would leave one in doubt – assuming that the generally complacent and unobservant magical populous actually took notice.

"Mummy, why isn't daddy here? I miss him, I don't want to leave without seeing him." James Potter had been on the verge of tears and a tantrum for the last two weeks. He missed his dad terribly and the family was there at the unWeasley hour of 10:15am, in hopes that Harry would be there.

"There, there, James, you know he's been away longer. We'll get you on the Express and you can sit with your friends. Teddy and Victoire will look in on you and get you settled on the train." Ginny told this to her son, but her brightness, her cheeriness was feigned. Harry had only been gone this long once before. He'd spearheaded an operation to recapture fifteen DeathEaters who had broken out of Azkaban. They'd been caught and sent through the veil, but Harry had been severely injured and confined in St. Mungo's for five weeks, four without any visitors. This felt too much like that, but none of the family's contacts could find out more. "I'd not be surprised if you got a visit from daddy on the train, or maybe if he didn't show up at the Feast tonight."

She led a cavalcade of James' loved ones, kissing and hugging him good-bye. Then he was turned over to her 'nephew' and niece. Teddy Lupin was Harry's godson and Harry had done a wonderful job rearing him. The proof was that he was Head Boy this year. His girlfriend, Victoire Weasley, Bill and Fleur's oldest, was a Gryffindor sixth year prefect. Even as upset as her son was, she knew he was in good hands. Nothing now to do but wait.

During their wait, they they greeted a number of well-wishers, albeit in a rather desultory way. More important for them were the conversations among the family.

"Mum, I'm still so worried about Harry. It's not like him, he's always managed to send word, send comfort before. If he's in such poor shape, why do the Ministry not tell us? Or St. Mungo's?" Ginny's upset was utterly genuine.

"Ginny, your father and brother have been trying break down the doors at the Ministry for weeks. Arthur, do either of you have any idea at all what they know?"

"Molly-wobbles, at this point, they cringe anytime they see either of us coming. The best I can get out of Jack Horrocks in the DMLE is that Harry's situation, whereabouts and condition are classified. Anytime I can get in to see Kingsley, he'll say no more than to refer me back to Jack. Jack's technically Harry's boss, but everyone's known for years they're really co-directors of the DMLE. If he won't talk, either he's into something really deep, doesn't want to be reached, or Merlin forefend . . ."

"No daddy!" Somehow, Ginny suppressed the full-voiced scream that threatened to erupt from her and saved them from attracting attention. "I won't even consider it! He can't be dead. They wouldn't, couldn't keep that from us. Gringotts would tell us, even if the others didn't."

"Ginny," Hermione's voice was soothing and, uncharacteristically for her, undemanding "hasn't Susan said anything at all? I can't believe she wouldn't tell you anything."

Ginny's mien was sour, vituperative. "Susan Banks doesn't seem to me to be the same person Susan Bones, our friend and comrade was." She jerked her head, calling their attention to the witch who, with her tall husband, were putting their two children on the Express. "She was first very sympathetic, but now, she's been distant, almost hostile. She only says its patient healer confidentiality."

Hermione looked at the others broodingly. "There is something wrong here. Nothing adds up at all."

Bill overheard. "What do you mean, Hermione?" Here was his favourite sister in law whose worry about her best friend, his favourite brother in law was palpable. Knowing what they had gone through in the war, somehow her concern for him felt realer to him than any of the rest, even Ginny's. _They're more family, those two than the rest of us._ "What are you thinking?"

"The only reason that they wouldn't say Harry was dead is if that would-be Dark Lord had won. But, the Ministry have been quite up front about this; he's been identified, a trial has been set for both him and his followers. Could it be that there is someone else behind this poseur?" And Harry's still tracking that someone down? Or Harry's really gone, and they're waiting until the trial to say anything, even to us?

"That is a possibility, I suppose. But it doesn't make a lot of sense to me. No. I just can't see it and the Ministry is too much a sieve for this to keep this long. The only thing I can think fitting is that he found something, and it's got to be big. Harry has to keep the lid on it while dealing with it. There would be only a few people he could be sure he could confide in."

"But Hermione, why wouldn't tell us, we're family?" As usual, Ron's voice held more than a suggestion of an argument. Hermione fell in love with him despite, not because of this character trait/flaw, but right now, a row was too much of a luxury.

"Ron, telling us wouldn't keep it a secret anymore than telling Rita Skeeter, and you know that." She barely stopped herself from rolling her eyes, a childhood habit she'd nearly broken herself of.

"Sure, then why wouldn't he tell you alone?" Irritating as was his wont, Ron did have a point.

"He could be protecting us, it may be something that hits too close to home, it might be both, or neither. All we can do is wait and listen to him when he returns. If he doesn't tell us everything we want to know, well, Harry's never given us any reason to to doubt him, ever."

"Well said, Hermione." Bill hoped to give this discussion a coda, for it was minutes before the Express left. "And we'll do what we always do, support him to the hilt."

Just then, the train's whistle blasted and the wheels lurched, lurched and began to roll, with hundreds of people waving as it gathered steam, left the station and vanished. The family watched for a moment or two longer, then headed for the floo, and back to the Burrow. The long planned celebration would still take place, albeit diminished by one person's absence.

 **-AUB-**

While James Sirius was escorted onto the train, Susan Bones Banks and her husband, Jonathan, saw their third year daughter, Amelia June and first year son, Raymond Edgar onto the Express. She turned to him after they were fairly onboard.

"You're good to get back in time?"

A chuckle. "No worries, I took off til 13:00 and the clinic is only a half an hour away. I'll even have time for lunch at Lu's." Wish you could be there too."

"The same. Sorry Jon, but I just don't know when I'll be done today, if at all. See you as soon as I can."

"Sue," Jonathan's voice mingled love for her with compassion and worry for her patient, Harry Potter. Susan never had said, but after fifteen years of marriage, he could read her and he could tell whatever it is was both messy and dispiriting for his wife. "You can tell him we both support him, whatever it is." Her eyes widened. "No, you've given away nothing, I just know you." She nodded, indulged herself in a passionate kiss, turned to the floos.

 **-AUB-**

She arrived in a nondescript room in the depths of the Ministry, joining Harry, Jack Horrocks, minister Kingsley Shacklebolt and the new chief warlock, Neville Longbottom. They gave her friendly hugs.

"Did you and Jon get Amy and Ray off ok?"

"We did. We saw the mob send off James Sirius. I caught a couple of sour looks from Ginny; I guess that'll turn out to be practice for her." Susan found the right note for both wryness and ruefulness.

"Copy that." Harry would normally smile when he used non-magical police/military lingo, but he was in full thousand yard stare mode today. "I think we're all set. Two squads of Aurors are deployed and ready to take down the floo and erect anti-Apparition and Portkey wards. Sue, you and I will floo to the Elms and walk from there to the Burrow. It's 10:50 and there's no way they'll all be back until 11:10 or 11:15, so plenty of time."

Jack picked up the schedule. "As the first of the family floo through to the DMLE, they'll be sequestered, then interviewed under Veritaserum. They will be quartered together until they appear in court tomorrow."

Neville went on, "The panel that finalized your civil matters, Head Auror, is and will remain sequestered until court tomorrow. As soon as the DMLE inform me that interviews have begun, I will notify the full Wizengamot for an emergency session at Noon.

Finally Susan finished up. "After the Burrow is cleared, Harry and I go to St. Mungo's, for my testimony and to finally treat Harry. Has an Observer been assigned?"

Kingsley answered. "Yes, Morgan is there already. Nothing but the top drawer. Harry, I . . ."

"Know what you're going to say, King; it's appreciated, but I can't stay focused if all of you say it. I appreciate it, though. Sue, let's leave." The floo flared twice.

 **-AUB-**

The Elms was a roomy, homey house that had seven bedrooms and four baths. Until recently, Harry had never felt more at home anywhere. Exiting the floo, he and Susan walked out without a glance. While walking the 150 metre way to The Burrow, Harry called for Dobby, instructed him to pack and move his possessions, then lock down the house until needed.

They entered the Burrow to find it still empty, just as he'd anticipated. He stood to one side of the door and conjured a chair for Susan's bones.

After five minutes or so, the first of the Weasleys came through the floo. "One side, One side! Let the other come through! Take a seat. Take a seat!" Harry's voice was in a loud, crowd control mode that none of his family ever had heard before. Though no magic was involved, they couldn't help themselves and obeyed with alacrity. When all were in and seated. Harry was as unlike himself as they had ever seen; he wore the formal robes of the Head Auror, but instead of the symbol of the Ministry, they bore the Potter coat of arms. The look on his face was that of a stranger, perhaps like the face of an exterminator, faced with an unfamiliar pest. No one had ever seen him display such loathing for anyone; he'd looked far more amiably towards Voldemort in their final showdown.

"Genevra Molly Weasley. In a meeting of a select panel of the Wizengamot convened by the Chief Warlock upon my behest, our union was dissolved on the grounds of Adultery and Attempted Line Theft. You are hereby denied any monies or artifacts of the House of Potter and all efforts will be employed to recover everything in your possession. The dwelling known as the Elms is allotted to you, but it's upkeep is solely your business. I serve you now with the documents of dissolution." The children of your body; namely James Sirius, Albus Severus and Lily Luna are hereby cast from the House of Potter in perpetuity."

Wandlessly, the parchments in Harry's hand banished into Ginny's hands. A blinding scarlet light enveloped her and entered, signifying the divorce as final. Ginny screamed, a rending sound of guilt and self-abnegation, then collapsed into a chair. The others sat as if petrified and incapable of coherent thought.

"Genevra Molly Weasley. As Head Auror of the Department of Magical Law Enforcement, I place you under arrest for conspiracy to commit Line Theft and Attempted Line Theft. Aurors!" Five Aurors came in at Harry's order. One took Ginny's wand, cuffed her to restrain her magic, then flooed her away. The other Aurors went about the room, removing the wands from the shocked and unresponsive group. Only when the several children began to cry, did the adults come to themselves to the point of comforting them.

Harry gestured and soothing mugs of tea appeared. As they could begin to process again, they noted that Harry hardly looked the better for his own tea. _Atlas bearing the weight of the world, could hardly look worse than Harry._ Hermione's thought was echoed in various ways by all the adults.

"Now then, I will explain to you what has and will happen. I was quite honestly in severe condition a month and a half ago. During the follow-up treatments, before I was deemed fit to be seen by others, Susan discovered that I had been betrayed; betrayed in the worst of ways, betrayed in a manner that would have made death preferable. I was betrayed by the woman I loved with all my being, whom I thought loved me in equal measure. Her actions have made a sham of the last eighteen years. I know now the Dursleys were right; I'm no more than a freak; someone who'll never know joy, always being used, never loved for himself. Susan, please?" His last was no longer a request by an adult, rather the lost, whispered plea of a small, abandoned child.

Susan suppressed her impulse to hug and console this man, her friend. Standing, she used her healer manner to draw the others' attention to her, at least until her friend regained control.

"Harry suffered extensive physical damage, moreover, the spell damage was even greater. Because they interacted negatively, healing was a long process. It was often a matter of two steps forward and one back. Eventually, I and my team got to the point where we had seemingly cured him. He was out of pain, could move freely and fluidly and strongly. His magic had returned, in full force. He was as magically strong and adept as ever he was.

"I was close to the point of declaring him able to see his family and friends, needing but a few days rest before returning to duty.

"Due to the nature of his injuries, I felt I needed to take an extra bit of caution, to be completely sure in my mind that Harry was good as new. On what I thought to be a final series of scans, I detected an old, strong, still active spell laid upon him." Susan could see that the adults were totally engaged by her account and following closely. She could see that Hermione, in particular, had kept up, understanding her completely. She also knew her friend would likely interrupt her and jump to the right conclusion. She paused, glancing at Harry, seeing that he was himself again. Heartened, she plowed forward.

"We have tools which allow us to analyze the properties of spells. I learned that the spell had been cast fourteen years ago and not by Mr. Potter . . ."

A chair crashed, overturned as Hermione Weasley lurched to her feet. She looked deathly pale, greenish and overcome with revelation, horror and the greatest level of fury anyone there ever had seen her show

"It was 24 August 2002, wasn't it?" Hermione's voice was soft, careful, precise. But it wasn't enough to hide her fight to keep to avoid a screeching rant. "It was a contraception spell, wasn't it? Ginny cast it on Harry on their wedding night." The first two statement were phrased as rhetorical questions, she didn't bother with the final assertion.

The voice of a corpse answered. "That's my best friend. You've never let me down, Hermione. You sussed it out as quickly as I knew you would.

"That spell must have cost her dearly. When we . . . well, until a couple of weeks ago, I'd have said made love. Don't know or care what she thought of it – let's just say we swived. Merlin! I was such a naîf. It was magical exhaustion and I thought it was the little death!" Bitter, self-mocking laughter.

"She always insisted she'd do the spell. My job certainly gave her scope for dalliance; she was discreet, I'll give her that much! Don't know how many, she slept with. I don't know yet if he or they were in on the plot. But we'll know tomorrow, by Merlin, we'll know and she's going down, and everyone in cahoots with her!" Harry's voice and anger rose with each word, until he finished with a bellow and each there avoided his attention, there was death in his eyes. It took an endless interval before he managed to reestablished control.

"This is how we'll handle this matter. You all will taken to the Ministry and will each be questioned under Veritaserum, with an Observer present. At the trial tomorrow, the Observer's memories will be your testimony."

Their breath caught. Observers were a special type of witch or wizard. Some in every generation are born with extreme abilities in observation and ability to retain details. At those times requiring a standard of truthfulness beyond even that provided by Veritaserum, an Observer would witness the interview and his or her memories served as testimony. Hermione had, in fact, employed as an Observer five times since the war.

"The only one who'll not be questioned this way is Hermione. First, her future value as an Observer would be ended. Second, she is one of only five people in existence whom I now trust. So long as she is not implicated, she will be asked questions only if need be and then only under a binding oath. You'll all will be in guest quarters and everything will be done to make your stay as pleasant as possible, under the circumstances. Aurors, proceed." The Burrow was swiftly emptied. The wards were dropped, a detail of Aurors remained to protect the property and Harry and his healer apparated to St. Mungo's.

 **-AUB-**

In the Hospital, they went to a private room in the long term spell damage ward. Awaiting them was the Observer, Donald Morgan. A tall, burly man, with an oddly, pinched face and perpetual rancid mien. He had the reputation of being the dictionary definition of a misanthrope. His path and Harry's had crossed on several occasions, all dealing with sensitive, high profile cases. If nothing else, his reputation for consummate professionalism was well documented and thoroughly earned.

After brief and formally correct greetings, Morgan asked for a description of Susan's demonstration. She filled him in, while Harry removed his formal Head Auror/Head of House robes. Underneath were plain black fatigues, specially ensorcelled to be transparent to diagnostic and healing magic.

"Very well, Healer Banks, Head Auror. The healer will stand on my right, facing me, the head auror to her right. At any point where she would normally circle you, you shall rotate instead. Otherwise, you both must face me and keep yourselves, particularly your faces, in my plain sight. Is all this clear?"

They affirmed their understanding and Morgan began.

"I am Observer Donald Morgan, observing testimony presented by Healer Susan Banks in the case of the Ministry of Magic versus Genevra Molly Weasley. Today is 1 September 2016, 12:37 hours. Healer Banks, you may begin."

Susan told of her treatment of Harry for his recent injuries and how an unexpected spell had been detected. She explained the diagnostic magic, having Harry rotate as the spellwork was done. She explained that the magical signature was Ms Weasley's, the purpose of the spell, and the consequences for the House of Potter. Finally, she broke the spell, then ran a series of diagnostic spells, which confirmed that Harry was now free of the contraceptive charm and now was capable of fathering children. The entire testimony took over an hour and a half.

"This is Observer Donald Morgan. My observation of the testimony of Healer Susan Banks is now concluded at 14:07, 1 September 2016." Bowing to the pair, he left.

Harry took Susan into his arms for a friendly but heartfelt hug. "I've got to go now to Hogwarts. Say hello to Jonathan and give him my thanks for his support."

 **-AUB-**

Justin Finch-Fletchley, rising Conservative party MP sat in his study, contemplating the smooth and mainly happy path his life had trod. His family had been solidly entrenched in the English social and political elite. Though he hadn't attended one of the great public schools, learning his magical nature and attending Hogwarts more than compensated. His transcripts had read in the mundane world as those from an exceedingly exclusive school. The right Oxbridge colleges and degrees that followed meant his place in the larger world was secure. His supporting rôle in the Blood War meant he was in good odor there as well. His persuit of the daughter of one of the Conservative whips was proceeding apace and their engagement would be announced by Yuletide.

Firmly attached to Conservative leadership, wealthy, able to aid things with a bit of magic now and then; he looked forward to the ascension to power his breeding, wealth, education and nature entitled him.

He called prospective father in law and arranged a business meeting, cum social engagement with him and his family. His butler entered and informed him that a gentleman requested a moment. Entering the parlour, he smiled at the sight of an old schoolmate, Michael Corner. His smile died at the somber look on his face.

"Michael, This is a welcome surprise! It's been too long. But man, why so dolorous? Has someone died." His manner oozed concern, genuine or faux was impossible to ascertain.

Corner looked at him, a bit of distaste bleeding through his expression. "In a manner of speaking, Justin," then, with a gesture, he banished a leaf of parchment at him. It flared when it hit his hands. "Justin Finch-Fletchley, you are hereby called to submit yourself to questioning in the case of the Ministry versus Genevra Molly Weasley."

"Weasley? But isn't she married to Potter?"

"No longer, I fear. All her children have turned out to be by-blows and her testimony names you as the father." He looked at his now ashen-faced friend dispassionately. "You'll submit to testimony, inheritance tests and be in court for the criminal and civil proceedings. Please pack a bag for overnight. You will be sequestered until the case concludes. Kindly show a leg, there's a good chap."

 **-AUB-**

". . .So the upshot is that it's all coming out tomorrow at noon. You all can see the problems. I can't let you sort him as a Potter, but he also doesn't know what has happened either. The only things I can think is to delay the Sorting until tomorrow, and start the term Monday. Still, that means the first years would have to sleep in the Great Hall. Not that some of us here haven't done that, right?"

He looked at Daphne Zabini, Potions professor. After the war, they became cordial friends and she replaced Slughorn eight years ago. Then at Dennis Creevey (he could still hardly look at Colin's younger brother without considerable, though misplaced guilt), the Muggle Studies professor (now a required subject for all magically reared students). Luna Lovegood Scamander, who replaced Hagrid as Care of Magical Creatures professor nodded. He had been with them during the war, and he could see their slight smiles in remembrance.

"Harry," Minerva McGonagall, still the headmistress, broke into his wayward thoughts, "As much as we understand you concerns, no student can disrupt the workings of the school, not even your son – "

"He is not my son! That is the point! He is neither flesh of my flesh, nor blood of my blood, nor bone of my bone." The full-throated yell abruptly died into a small, defeated murmur. "None of them are. None can or will inherit."

"But you'll still act as his father, won't you?" Filius Flitwick couldn't imagine Harry Potter would cut the boy or his siblings off. He had been as caring and selfless a person as he'd ever met. But his response was a dismal shock.

"No, never. You know how highly lines and houses are viewed. To not cut them off entirely would sent an intolerable mixed message. Besides. . ." They saw his bore a look of anguish, deeper than any which they'd ever seen there.

"The last eighteen years, I thought I'd finally startled to live fully. It was all a lie, a sham. I'm back to being the freak under the stairs. I … I can't look at any of them without seeing and feeling the betrayal. Well, do as you please. I'd still suggest using the morning tomorrow to orient first and third years and have the WWN on at Noon for the trial. At least that way, no one has to rely on the _Prophet_. Padma, I need a dreamless sleeping potion, goo for sixteen hours."

He followed another former classmate to the Infirmary, accepted the vial, and portkeyed out to the hated house on Grimmauld Place. His dislike of the old lodging was well known, none would think to seek him there. He changed into sleepwear and let loose with his emotions, crying out a bay that would shame the fiercest were. He downed the vial and entered oblivion.

 **A/N: As with every chapter _On_ Deck, This has not been beta read. Unless you find something that completely makes no sense, I won't play with it until it become a WIP.**

 **As you supposed, the recommended stories are those listed above.**

 **I've a poll on my profile page. Your help is needed, please vote.**

 **Once more, thanks to all you who read my efforts. Visitors, hits, reviews, follows, favorites, C2s are my only payment. Believe me, you all make me feel rich!**

 **Posted: 11/10/15**

 **Words: 4,629**


	4. Engagement Party

**Engagement Party**

 **Angst/Hurt/Comfort. Harry P., Ron W., Hermione G. Ron and Hermione hold an engagement party. They hope to surprise Harry into becoming the Best Man. However, it is Harry who surprises them, with a series of confessions that bare his heart and soul to the party. Convinced that he has betrayed his best friend and earned everyone's derision and hatred, he leaves Britain, intending to never see any of them again.**

 _25 August 2001, The Burrow_

The guests had been partying for a good forty-five minutes or longer. Various drinks and canapés were being consumed with gusto; even granting that Molly Weasley had her share of shortcomings, no one would ever class her cooking as one. Everyone seemed in peculiarly high spirits, far more than the end of summer would warrant. Hermione Granger and Ron Weasley, in particular seemed to positively glow.

Then, Ron cast a cannon blast charm. The silenced company all focused their attention on him. The tall, red haired wizard had a cat-that-ate-the-canary look to his face. The bushy haired witch at his side looked much the same.

"Your attention all," as Ron seemingly channeled more that a hint of his brother Percy's fulsomeness, "and thank you for being here today. As some of you know, there's more afoot than just our traditional end of summer party. I, we," looking at his companion, "have an announcement!" Their company leaned in, on tenterhooks.

"Me and Hermione have dated for over three years. We've actually become rather close." The onlookers loosed a mild wave of merriment at this somewhat uncharacteristic bit of wit. "Three weeks ago, I entreated her to become a Weasley. . ."

"And I said Yes, yes, yes!" Squealed the brightest witch Britain had seen since a certain Lily Marie Evans Potter. Her face left none in doubt of the joy that prompted this hitherto uncharacteristic outburst from her. She waved her wand, canceling the notice-me-not charm on the overhead banner reading Congratulations, 'Hermione and Ron'.

Even those in on the ill-kept secret were on their feet in wild applause, as the engaged couple shared a passionate kiss. The acclamation continued, as Hermione joyously waved her left hand, displaying the rather extravagant ring. When the approbation faded, Ron raised his hand.

"Of course we both hope you'll share our joy next June. But now we've a special request for our best friend, Harry, mate, come up here. We'd like you by our side, now and in June, standing with us as our Bes. . ."

Just then, everyone froze. Several looked to fall down, but were levitated instead. Once they were all stable, the couple were ensconced in a conjured loveseat, facing the rest. More tables, on risers were conjured and half the guests were seated there. The effect was that of an ampitheatre, the happy (one still assumed) betrothed pair in the spotlight. Suddenly, the wizard they'd called out to stand by them was standing behind them.

Harry's face carried a scarcely to be credited mélange of emotions. An undercurrent of self-loathing, overlain by melancholy, resignation and resolve seemed to them to highlight this cocktail. He faced Ron and Hermione after giving the audience a good look, and gave them one too.

Harry addressed them, his voice entirely reflect his mien. "I can't and won't apologize to you for having captured your attention in this way. I expect that you'll find plenty more reasons to hate and despise me before I'm done.

"I know that Hermione for one is wondering about this spell. It is an interesting bit of magic, a variant of the stasis spell, slowing your physical reactions, while your mind remains active, at full capacity. I run across it in the Black library, when I researched, pondered and eventually rejected the ministry's offer to become an Auror. Yes! I know you're all shocked, since I have the reputation of bare academic adequacy, even by my closest acquaintances. You all drank Snape's cool-aid and my own protective camouflage. Being beaten and starved for getting better marks than Dudley was no incentive to display my smarts. Anyone looking at the publicly available records for Hogwarts would see I was in the top ten in my class every year. I finished number six of all those in the 1991 cohort who attended seven years. But back to business.

"First, anyone who thought I'd be surprise by all of this, I'm disappointed in you. If it were to be a secret, telling it to Rita would have worked better. Neville told me, though I doubt he remembers. Hannah, you married him, but you got to find a potion to keep him sober, or better yet, cut him off entirely! He was three sheets to the wind after only a half shot of Ogden's! Won't work at all for a publican's spouse. Ron, Hermione, shame on you both for trying to set me up.

"By now, you've sussed out that my reply is no." He gave a brief bark of what might've been laughter, but wasn't. "Among other things, my conscience vetoes the idea. When I finish, Hermione and you comprehend the scope of my betrayal to you, you wouldn't want me closer than a light year anyway.

"This is my story, the account none of you know, that I don't want to tell, but must if you're to understand me and understand today." All the while, Harry was in motion, as if he couldn't stand still. He paced in front of the partygoers, scanning their faces, then turning to the engaged couple and staring their faces.

"By 1 November 1991, I had made two friends, my first two friends ever. Dudley never allowed me to make any before Hogwarts, but he and his gang weren't there. In hindsight, you and he would be the first and in many respects the only ones to see just Harry, not the imaginary person our world viewed and still views me. Our adventures that year made those bonds ironclad, at least for me, at least for then.

"Our second year confirmed that bond. All the drek I went through was cushioned by your standing by me. Hermione, when you were petrified, my entire world dropped into the abyss. I realized then how much your friendship meant to me. I was only allowed to see you a couple of times and I accept that you knew nothing whilst petrified. I still feel guilty I didn't find a way to visit you, even so. Still, I talked to you, for hours at a time in my head. I told you all about my life, how I viewed myself, warts and all. In my head, you accepted everything and accepted me, gave me good advice, kept my spirits up. When it was all over and you hugged me in the Great Hall, I felt like my true life started again. Looking back, I know now that that moment held my first betrayal of our friendship. It was then I first started to fall in love with you."

– **EP –**

"You have to understand, I didn't realize it then. What I did know was that I'd missed you more than I'd have missed Ron. I knew I'd never have had those internal conversations with him, on any subject. I knew that his return would never have effected me as deeply. Somewhere, and how, I knew I wasn't just because he was a boy. It's hard to explain, I can't really put in words. Damn the Dursleys, may they burn for eternity! They couldn't beat and starve the magic out of me, but they sure as Hell left me ignorant of love! By the time I could figure things out on my own, those feelings meant I betrayed you, and in the worst way I can imagine.

"Our third year was a turning point for me. There were the first cracks in my friendship with Ron. A damned stress filled year, and the first year I kenned that my life was filled with secrets that many knew and few or none were willing to share with me. I'll not insult anyone here by going through the list, seeing as I hold a number of you guilty of this.

"My reaction to the Firebolt incident was the first betrayal of our friendship that I recognized as such, though it still took me a while to work it out. Maybe I was too immature not to react as I did, but I don't see that as absolving me. My second betrayal, not supporting you when Ron exploded about the rat is more of the same. I suppose that lack of support for you when you were so distressed because of your course load counts as a third betrayal. Some golden boy, some hero, right.?"

Were they able to move, the depth and cohesiveness of self disgust in his voice would have caused them to flinch. But it all had to be inside their heads and the sympathetic pain had no outlet.

"The night we rescued Sirius, that was the first time that just we two had an adventure. It remains the single greatest night of my life. Forget that we were prompted by Dumbledore, I think you'd have worked it out by yourself regardless. That night, you embodied the best of all the houses at Hogwarts. I still weep in amazement when I think back on it; I was amazed and humbled to to able to call you my best friend, to know you'd thought of my as your best friend. Yep, it all goes down the drain today, but I'll still cherish that night.

"By the time we returned to the hospital wing, I knew too that something changed forever in me that night. I would still be clueless about what it was; yet I knew my concept of Hermione Jean Granger was richer and deeper, somehow."

– **EP –**

For long minutes Harry squatted, halfway between the throng and the couple. His hands pushed hard against the ground, palms flat; he seemingly tried to find and pull strength from the earth itself. He proved no Antaeus though; rising, Harry appeared more haggard, upset and distraught. He faced them, drawing and releasing an unsuccessful cleansing breath.

"Fourth year. Fourth year. Sweet Merlin, what can I tell you?! World Cup, TriWizard, Cedric's death, Voldemort's return, wherever do I start? With none of those, I guess." Turning, he moved in front of Hermione, and dropped to his knees.

"The only reason I lived through that year is you and your unwillingness to leave my corner. I finished the year alive and functional solely due to you. Yes, I own you my life and sanity. You did so not without cost; I hated, still hate the undeserved indignities that were heaped upon you. I wish with all my being that you had gotten more back from me by way of support. A million thanks would only be a first drop in the bucket for what I owed to you.

"And as for you, Bilius," Harry moved to Ron's ear away from Hermione. The pure venomous hatred in his voice was breathtaking. "our friendship ended that Halloween night, permanently, totally, irrevocably. You were jealous, not of Harry Potter, but the Boy-Who-Lived, and you knew better! You, one of the only two people in existence whom I never doubted; You. Knew. Better! Your treason lost me to you, and you never got me back.

"You think that pathetic, half-hearted excuse for an apology after the first task squared us? You were way too little, way too late. You were already dead to me, and you were no better than Malfoy. Why didn't I beat you to a pulp as I should have? Least important reason was I need more dumping on my like I needed that Hungarian Horntail.

"The real reason," and here again he knelt before the witch "was you, Hermione. I was stunned, dazed and mostly reactive all that year, but I wasn't so far gone as to have ever given you the pain that a break with him would have done to you. I would have rather the dragon roasted and ate me, then hurt you like hat."

– **EP –**

"What could ever have been worse than my fourth year?" Harry's question was rhetorical, his tone shouted it. "Oh yes, my fifth year; from the moment I got off the Express, through the time Dumbledore told me that thrice damned prophecy, four years too late. Your hug and kiss on my cheek at the platform was my high point, the bottom dropped out right after that.

"Hermione did all she could and yes, she kept me going. I listened and she gave me the courage to do the right thing. The Defense Association was a highlight, but the same right thing got my physically tortured and mentally raped. It wasn't her fault and I never thought it was. The truth of the matter is that the entire ministry was against me that year, and so I was in for Hell, despite my best efforts, her best efforts, anyone's best efforts.

"With all my being, I wish I'd listened to you after the History O.W.L., after we dealt with Umbridge. For that matter, I wish one of us had remembered the mirror – that's on me. If I'd listened to you, we would have never gone to the Department of Mysteries, and Sirius might never have died.

"More than that, you'd have not been cursed by Dolohov. You see, when you nearly died, my life ended. It was only when Neville found your pulse that I came alive again. And only then did I realize that my feelings for your were love, complete, irrevocable, imperishable. When Voldemort possessed me, yes, it was my capacity to love that evicted him. But it wasn't a general love for justice, or of Britain, or of anything beyond my now realized love for you, to keep you safe, protected, whole.

"I curse Dumbledore to the lowest Hell for keeping me from you whist you healed. I so wanted to see you and comfort you. I wanted nothing less than to confess to you my love, in the hope that perhaps you felt the like for me. But, by the time the manipulative bastard got out of my way; I'd missed the boat."

– **EP –**

Harry stood, stretched looked at the rest. The could immediately see that another layer of dolorous emotion had settled upon his psyche. Defeat. Most of them, but not quite all, knew him since he'd turned eleven; they never had seen defeat in him, never. With that, he'd ceased to be Harry James Potter; who he was now they hadn't a clue.

"By the time I was sprung to the Burrow, it was too late. There was too much drama with Bill and Fleur, by the time is was understood and worked out, it was clear that Hermione wanted to move on, that something changed. I fancy that she wanted to be herself, Hermione Jean Granger, and not just 'Harry's best friend'. My gut told me that to open myself to her would not be welcome, would cause an explosion, might even end our friendship.

"I couldn't, wouldn't dare that. Loving her, I knew all I could do was to support her, rejoice in her becoming herself. It wasn't an act. I found I was, in fact, happy for her. Even thought I felt I betrayed our friendship by falling in love, I was true to my love for her.

"When we got to Hogwarts, it was even more evident that she wanted, needed a vacation from me, from my destiny. As I became ever more serious about the war, about fighting it in my school, preparing to fight the fight outside as well, you" here he turned to Hermione, and gave her a full, if non intentional dose of his feelings of defeat "made it clear you would not share or help me. You never listened to me or my suspicions, my fears. That was OK.

"I swallowed my hatred for Bilius went it became clear you had set your cap for him. I beat it as far to death as I could. I resolved to aid you, if I could. My heart soared when you came to me, crushed when Bilius started in with Lavender. Not for your distress, but that you still thought enough of me to want and to need my comfort. I gave it to you, willingly gladly.

"Ginny, I guess I ought to say something about our little fling. I tried to take a page from Hermione's book and see if I could grow beyond who I was. Didn't work. Our few weeks were nice, it made me feel about as normal as this freak could ever have felt. But my feelings for Hermione ensured it couldn't be anything more. To the extent I hurt you, I'm sorry. I'm glad you and Dean found each other again after the war, you are a good pair.

"Had I not wanted her to be happy, which meant for her to be with you, Bilius, I would have gladly let that poisoned mead kill you. For me, that bezoar saved the person she fancied, not you. When you two became a couple, you had my support, even joy because she was over the moon, even if you were still an idiot about it.

"In hindsight, I feel little for Dumbledore's death. I feel he was, in his own way, nearly as much a foe as Voldemort. In life, in death, his refusal to think anyone should have the full story; in his hubris that only he knew what others needed to know, and when and in what manner that knowledge was to be disclosed, drew things out too far. Many would be alive right now, had he been more forthcoming. For me, the only plus was that Hermione was willing to support me again.

– **EP –**

"The year of the quest. Again, without Hermione's brains and bravery we'd have lost. I'll never cease to be grateful for that. Thank you, Hermione.

"As for you, Bilius, without her shield you would never have left the tent alive the night you showed yourself as the cowardly traitor that you are. Yes, bastard, I was ready to kill you, not only for my own feelings, but you'd have spilled everything to Voldemort, had you been caught. When you returned you told us about nearly being captured. What was in your head would have doomed us.

"Hermione, when you told us you chose to stay, I exalted. Not only in that I was sure to fail had you left, but because you and I would be together, even though I could never share my feelings. For a time, I hoped that you meant you chose me for more than the duration. When he came back and you forgave him, I knew that was a pipe dream. Despite all, I did all I could to help you and him cleave together.

"Well, we won the battle, won the war and you won the guy. Since then, I've supported you, done everything either of you called on me to do; all to aid and enrich your life with Ron. Right up to today."

– **EP –**

Harry looked around, strove to regather himself. He gave the appearance of calm, but he fooled no one. Still the self-loathing, the despair, the defeat. "So, what of today? I'll surprise the lot of you; I didn't really know what I would do when I woke today.

"I considered not coming at all. I thought I might come, show myself and put on my cloak to observe. I entertained the idea of just coming with my cloak on and watch. I even pondered if I should just do what my friendship and love for Hermione demanded of me, come here and once more do what everyone expects Harry Potter, member of the troika to do.

"As much as that duty called to me, I found that the truth called loudest and most persistently. So maybe I was wrong; my highest duty to you, Hermione might be to tell you the truth, come what may. Even though it didn't and still doesn't feel that way in my heart.

"I had a vision. If I stayed, became the Best Man, I'd be joined with you and Bilius for life. Ten months of helping you plan the wedding, doing what he should be doing; since he'll skive off, every single chance he can. And I'd do more than my share; you know you could trust me to do more than he would. Planning and enduring the bachelor party. Then the wedding itself. Squiring about the Maid of Honour, Ginny more than likely, and pretending to enjoy it. Toasting your happiness and seeing you off for the honeymoon I'd have planned for him, so you would be certain to be thrilled. Pit bossing the cleanup.

"We'll live what, another 125, 150 fifty years? I'll have to hear his boasting about how good you are in bed and how much of a man he is to you. I'll have to listen to both of you decompress when you row; over any and everything, most importantly over how big a family you'll have and should you be more than a housewife. I'll be 'Uncle Harry' to your children and a godfather to the first. The babysitter, along with the grandparents, since I never will have a wife or family.

"You'll keep 'helping' me by setting me up with nice witches and giving out your semi-stout declarations that I'm not a wizard's wizard. Oh yes, I hear that too. I can't imagine intimacy, let alone marriage, with anyone who had not the first place in my heart. I hope I never would sink to that.

"I know as we grew older together you'll insist we live close, if not together. And then our deaths. Potter luck demands that I die last; so it's me who'll be the chief mourner, who will give the eulogy, who supports the widow or widower. And then I'll die; Harry Potter the great, powerful and famous wizard, in the eyes of the _hoi poloi_. In reality, Harry Potter, the freak. The man whom no one loved for himself.

I couldn't do it, I was too much the selfish weakling."

– **EP –**

He squatted again. Eyes downcast, shoulders shaking to sobs he could not ever vocalize. An eternity later, he rose and stood behind the happy couple.

"So it goes. My arrangements, already made. You'll be released five minutes after I leave. By then I'll be long gone. I won't be found by the likes of any of you. I speak a dozen languages fluently. My disguises are impenetrable.

"A couple final good byes." He walked to one of the tables and stopped by Bill and Fleur's daughter. "I will miss you Victoire. You're the Veela I care for the most. Have a wonderful life." Another table. "Luna, if there were space in my heart for another, you would have that." He kissed his own hand, then laid it on one of hers. "This on your cheek."

Slowly, he walked to the loveseat. Facing Hermione, he knelt, found her eyes. "You can have nothing in your heart for me now, save hatred and disgust. I wish it were not so, but I know it is. I'll never darken you existence again." Rising, he kissed his hand and covered one of hers with it. "This on your lips. You have my full heart, world without end."

Turning, he called out, "Kreacher!" The elf came and took his hand. "Engage!" With a muted crack, they exited.

 **A/N: Another plot bunny that erupted out of my skull and demanded out, before I'd be allowed to pick up a WIP again.**

 **The idea of Harry being asked to be Ron and Hermione's Best Man, while hiding his love for her is not new. I've read a number of stories by various writers on this theme. I have, though, gone in what I hope is a unique tangent.**

 **I deny that Harry is OOC here. He is more observant, puts emotions and relationships together better than in canon, yes. But he does put things together in canon better than fanon likes to admit. He did better in school than fanon credits him as well. I think it's no terrible stretch to give him the space to make these insights. In canon, it would have taken just a bit more leisure than he got.**

 **I have a poll running on my profile, kindly lend me your input.**

 **Once more, thanks to all you who read my efforts. Visitors, hits, reviews, follows, favorites, C2s are my only payment. Believe me, you all make me feel rich!**

 **Posted: 11/11/2015**

 **Words: 4,154**


End file.
